Home Again, Home Again

Crabapple Junction, North Dakota

January 13, 1946

The train came to a shaky stop, steam hissing out from underneath. The conductor's "Crabapple Junction!" pulled Carter from his sleep. He lifted his head off the window and blinked, peering out into the snow. The grain elevator, partially obscured by the swirling snowfall, marked the stop. A once familiar sight, it now seemed foreign.

Rubbing his eyes, he stood and stretched before checking his watch. 1530. Right on time.

He swiped his arm under his nose, the rough khaki wool scratching, and sniffed. Then he grabbed his satchel from off the seat and crossed it over his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his gloves and slipped them on. His duffel bag was stored above him and he pulled that down. Finally, he grabbed the handle of the small wooden crate that had been sitting beside him.

"Come on, buddy," he murmured. "Finally home. So you can stop yowling at me."

In protest, an ornery yowl rang from the box. Carter rolled his eyes and started down the aisle, making sure his duffel didn't hit anyone as he passed. The door opened and he took a breath before stepping out.

His feet hit snow and, for a moment, it was overwhelming. His breath caught in his throat. Home. God. He was home. After four years.

He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing!

Carter sucked in a sharp breath and the world suddenly came back into focus before he even realized it had gone blurry.

"Move away, Lieutenant," the conductor called. Carter looked over his shoulder as the conductor leaned out the door.

"Oh. Right." Carter took a couple of steps.

"Good luck!" The door closed and a few moments later the train hissed and lurched before chugging forward, leaving him behind.

Carter watched it go and then looked around, the snow stinging his face. He dropped down deeper into his scarf. He was alone. Why was he alone? Where was everyone? Had they… had they forgotten him? He had called his dad before the train had left Fargo.

He looked around again. No one. Just him. Not even another passenger.

Carter gulped back the tightness in his throat. Crabapple Junction wasn't too far, only half a mile. From where he stood he could barely see its hazy lights flickering through the snow.

With a grunt, Carter slung his duffel over his shoulder and started walking. He was a few minutes in when he made out a figure emerging from the flurries, running towards him. The figure got closer, bundled up in a heavy coat, big boots, and a winter hat, its scarf flapping behind it.

"Andy!"

He barely had time to register the voice when Rebecca came barreling towards him, tackling him into a big, hard hug. "Andy!"

Carter breathed a sigh of relief and let go of his duffel, letting it fall off his shoulder to the ground behind him. Then he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tight.

"Thought you guys forgot about me," he said with a laugh that was a little too wobbly.

"Forget you?! Geez! No way!" Rebecca exclaimed into his coat. "We were even fixing to get here early, but the truck stalled a mile outside The Junction!"

"A mi– Bec, did you walk all the way here? Through the snow?!"

Rebecca pulled back, her blue eyes squinting under her furrowed brow. "Walk?! What do you take me for, Andy? I ran!"

Carter laughed, a bright cheerful sound that sliced through the cold. "Oh. Right! Of course!" Four years and Rebecca hadn't changed. Except she very much had. Taller, slimmer face, hair curled instead of braided. Eighteen and a woman, not the bratty tomboy he had left behind. "Hey, you're taller!" He put his hand on her head and then cut it through the air to his shoulder.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Yep. A little bit. Or maybe you're just shorter!" She paused and tightened her hold on him. "Kinda skinny, too."

"Army food," Carter said with a shrug. "Almost as bad as your cooking."

Rebecca blew a raspberry. "Oh, I'm so wounded," she said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, I'll take your bag!"

Carter bent his knees and grabbed the strap of his duffel, hoisting it up over his shoulder again. "Nah, I got it… But you can take this." He held out the crate. Rebecca arched an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"A dragon. Careful, he bites."

Rebecca squatted down and peered into the box. A black paw darted between the bars and swatted at her.

"Geez, you weren't kidding. What're you doing with a cat?"

"Old pal," Carter replied, nodding to the crate. "I thought I wrote to you about him?"

Rebecca shook her head and stood. Then she grabbed the crate from him. "Nope. But, hey, wouldn't it be a kick if one of your letters showed up in the mail after you're home?"

Carter gave her a lopsided grin. "Pretty funny," he agreed.

It was strange how easily they fell back into their old dynamic, as if no time had passed. Rebecca was still Rebecca, wild and fierce, and he… Well, he was still Andy. Wasn't he?

Carter pushed back the ghosts that whispered 'no' in his ear. He was home. His plucky sister was beside him, chatting to him like he'd never left. The war was over. Life was going to move forward just fine.

Rebecca fell silent as they started to walk and Carter looked over to see her chewing her lip. "Something on your mind, kiddo?"

"Well… It's just… Something happened, Andy. Kind of… Well, I guess it was good timing seeing as you're back."

Carter tilted his head. "Okay?"

"It's just… You don't think I'm a sissy, do you?"

Carter stopped dead in his tracks. Was she joking? Her? A sissy? He couldn't help it. He laughed. "What? Beckers, what the heck are you talking about?!"

Rebecca ducked her face into her scarf, hiding the fact that her cheeks, already red from the cold, had turned even darker. Her freckles stood out in stark contrast to the flush. "It's stupid."

"No, really, Becs, what's going on?" he asked, genuinely curious as he started walking again. Rebecca jammed her free hand into her pocket and mumbled something. Carter leaned closer. "What was that? Think the snow blocked it." She mumbled something again. "Rebecca!" he cried, exasperated.

"Tommy Larsen is stupid and he asked me to marry him, okay?" she cried, her voice rising to an unnatural pitch.

Again, Carter stopped in his tracks, his mind trying to process what she had just said. Rebecca was a pretty girl to be sure, but she'd rather wrestle a pig than endure a man's advances. And yet, somehow, one had gotten close enough to propose? One that she hadn't even mentioned in any of her letters? Tommy Larsen? That big-eared, gap-toothed kid behind the counter at the general store? Wait. Marriage?

It hit him again that she was eighteen now, not fourteen. And Tommy Larsen? He had to be going on twenty. Life had gone on in this little spot of North Dakota. People he had known forever and a day had aged, grown, fallen in love, moved away... Died. Even without him, life just rolled along, time passing like a river with change as its current- an undertow threatening to pull him under to drown.

Carter tamped down the anxiety that caught hold of his stomach and started walking again, keeping a slow, even pace. "Uh, well… What do you think about that?"

"He's dumb," she fumed.

"Okay. Well, then I guess your answer should be pretty simple then, right?"

Rebecca looked away. "He's not that dumb."

"Right," Carter said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around it all. "Soooo… Do you… Lo-ike him?" It felt like he was stepping into a minefield with that question and he braced himself for a punch on the arm. Instead she stopped and looked at him, eyes big.

"Does that make me a total and complete goof?"

Yep. He was in a minefield. Who was this girl? Maybe she wasn't the same Rebecca he knew. "No, of course not. You're allowed to have feelings, Beckers. Doesn't make you a sissy or anything. It's good, y'know?"

"Well, I don't like them. I mean, I like him, but I don't like the fact that I like him, whether I'm allowed to have feelings or not!" Rebecca huffed, kicking at the snow with her boot. She hunched deeper into her coat. Then she let out a long breath and looked back up at him. "I'm really glad you're home, Andy."

Carter grinned and rubbed her head, twisting her wool cap. "I'm glad I'm home, too."